


A Love Too Late

by sherlockian4evr



Series: My Dark Muse [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Beating, Branding, Broken Back, Eye Gouging, Gen, M/M, Not A Happy Ending, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4039090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John corner two murderers. Sherlock gets wounded and John gets taken prisoner. The murderers like to torture their victims before killing them. It's not a happy ending.</p><p>I don't know where this came from!</p><p>Beta read by Sherlock1110.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love Too Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [huntingosprey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntingosprey/gifts).



He let his head hang and his mouth fall open. It was much easier to clear the blood from his mouth that way. If he was lucky, they would decide that he had had enough, because really, he had.

This was an excellent example of why one should always take the enemy out decisively. There was never room for error in combat and that is exactly what this had been, combat. What else could it be called when guns were pointed at you and your best friend?

Pain from the impact of a chain hitting his thigh screamed through his body. **Fuck**.

It had begun with the standard chase through London and had ended in an alley. John and Sherlock were face to face with a murdering duo. The two criminals were known for torturing their victims before killing them. They had guns and they were pointed at John and Sherlock.

The army doctor had gambled madly when he lunged for the burly man who held him in his sights. The impact of his body against theirs had sent both criminals reeling. A wild shot was fired, grazing the detective's side. When the two criminals regained their balance, both guns were trained on John. Sherlock lay ignored, having hit his head as he fell.

Sherlock was alright. He had to be alright.  
When John was dropped to the floor and kicked in the side, he curled up reflexively. Tears escaped his eyes and, to his horror, he heard himself say "Please. No more."

"Oh, listen. The little army man wants us to stop." It was the larger of the two men speaking. John called him Flat Face in his own mind because of his nose. It had obviously been broken at some point and had healed crooked, squashed off to the side.

Silence, the quiet one, smiled wickedly and shook his head. He pointed to John's shirt. "Off."

Flat Face heaved John to a sitting position.

The army doctor groaned. He didn't like ropes or handcuffs. He loathed zip ties. John could feel them digging into his wrists with every motion of his body. He could feel blood dripping from his hands.

His shirt had to be cut from his body in deference to his bindings. John didn't put up a fight, he would save his flagging energy for later.  
From somewhere behind him, there came the sound of a blow torch igniting. The army doctor panicked. As he lunged forward, Flat Face tackled him roughly to the ground. The breath was driven from his body and he blacked out.

When John regained consciousness, he had been bound to a chair with a new application of zip ties. Silence was heating a metal rod in the flame of the blow torch. Flat Face was fixing him with an angry glare.

"My friend doesn't like it when his toys try to get away." Flat Face moved closer and took John's bruised face firmly in his hand. "It won't happen again." His other hand slammed into the army doctor's side.

**Be okay Sherlock. Find me.**

When John caught his breath, he growled, "Go to hell."

Flat Face punched him again then moved away. Silence took his place in front of John. He passed the blow torch off then leaned in close with the heated bar. John tried to flinch back to no avail.

He screamed as fire seared into his chest. When the nauseating smell of burning flesh combined with the pain, John mercifully passed out. It wouldn't last long enough.

When the army doctor came back around, his first thought was of Sherlock. Even through his pain, he forced himself to look for his friend to see if he was safe. As his surroundings came into focus, his memory returned.

Silence was crouched down before him, a maniacal smile on his face. He reached up and stroked John's face almost lovingly. The army doctor closed his eyes to block out the sight. That served as an invitation for Silence's thumb to stray over John's eyelid.

John inhaled sharply and jerked his head away, he had seen the autopsy reports and knew what these men did to their victims.  
"Out." The one word command brought Flat Face to John's side. The man gripped the army doctor's head in a vice like hold. Silence began stroking John's eyelid again.

"God! Please no!" John was frantic.

Silence pressed. John screamed.

* * *

Sherlock awoke with one thought: _John_.

He looked around the hospital room and saw Lestrade. "John?" It was a question.

The DI shook his head with resignation. "There's been no sign of him in the last 28 hours."

Sherlock ripped the IV from his hand and clambered from the hospital bed. He was already dressing when Greg tried to intercede. Sherlock grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall, heedless of the nurses pouring into the room.

The detective was barely restrained fury. "John is out there in the hands of two  murderers who delight in torture. I'm going to find him. Don't get in my way."  
Greg didn't fight his friend. He understood just how much John meant to the man. Instead, he held his hands up placatingly. "I won't try to stop you. I just want to help. Let me help."

Sherlock released him. "Phone." Greg handed him his phone - he had been keeping it safe for him. The detective's fingers flew over the keypad. It was a long shot but... there it was, John's phone. "Have your people meet us at this address." He handed the phone back to Lestrade and resumed dressing.

* * *

The viscous fluid and blood from his empty eye socket had dried on his cheek but the throbbing pain had not lessened in the slightest. John knew that it didn't matter, Flat Face and Silence were following their established pattern. There were only two torments left for him to endure.

His thoughts weren't for himself, the were for Sherlock, his friend. No, his love. **I should have told him.**

Flat Face loomed over him. "It will be over soon, army man." He caressed John's cheek. "Such a shame, but my friend is getting anxious." He sliced through the zip ties that held John in place.

Silence kicked the chair over, spilling the army doctor onto the floor. Metal pipe in hand, he began pounding John in the back, just above his hips. The army doctor was too weak to fight and barely managed to struggle under the onslaught. When his back finally broke, he screamed.

* * *

They all heard the scream echoing down the hall. It was John. Sherlock ran, Greg and his team close on his heels.

When they broke into the room where John was being tortured, the sight that met their eyes filled them with horror.

Sherlock shoved past Flat Face, leaving him to Lestrade and his team to subdue. His only concern was for the man hovering over John with a knife.

Before he could stop him, Silence had ripped across John's abdomen with the blade, spilling his intestines on the floor.

The detective wrenched the blade from John's murderer's hand and plunged it into Silence's heart repeatedly. It was only the weak sound from John that stilled Sherlock's hand.

The detective collapsed to the floor and pulled John to him. Tears were running down his cheeks. "Don't leave me John. I need you." He sobbed. "I love you."

John turned his face toward Sherlock's voice, his vision had gone black. "Love you 'lock." His breathing slowed then stopped.

There was complete silence in the room for several minutes then Sherlock screamed.

Donovan thought it was the most wounded sound that she had ever heard.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to podfic or translate this or create a drawing based on it, go for it. Just please let me know and link back to my fic.


End file.
